Before The First Harvest
by SaoirseParisa
Summary: When her grandfather dies, Sara Jennings takes over his farm. But it may prove to be more than she can handle. She sets a goal: if she can grow a simple batch of turnips successfully, there may be a future for her and her dream yet. My entry for Accidentally The Whole Fanfic's First Harvest Prompt in the Village Square Forum.


**A/N** : This is an entry for Accidentally The Whole Fanfic's "First Harvest" prompt event, which involves writing a fan fic for the first Harvest Moon game one has ever played! Admittedly, mine is the first HM for the GameBoy Color (By God is it hard to keep cows healthy! Harvest Moon 2 makes this soooo much easier!), which I only recently bought on the 3DS Virtual Console. I thought I'd go against the grain and write about the girl character, Sara, rather than Pete/Jack. Because Sara needs some love, too!

* * *

 _Before The First Harvest_

With a great yank, Sara Jennings finally pulled the last weed from her grandfather's farm. Her reddish brown hair was wet and matted with sweat, with some strands sticking right to her forehead. Her legs burned from walking and standing so much. As soon as she fell to her knees, it was as though her whole body had turned to pudding, boneless and out of energy. Her knees were caked with dirt from constantly pulling weeds out, even more so now that she finished. Farming was hard work. She knew this, but all she was doing was pulling weeds and clearing out some rocks, and she was already tired. She looked down at her watch. It was already 4:37 PM.

There was nothing else to do as of right now. She dragged herself back into her home, made some dinner, and relaxed, hoping to get her energy back. But with every bite she took of her rice and chicken, she kept eyeing some seeds that were sitting on her desk. Turnip seeds. She had bought them from Nina's flower shop the day before. She had studied all she could about growing crops. But looking at them now...Sara began regretting buying those turnip seeds. It was like she was setting herself up for failure.

"Can I even manage to grow some?" She asked aloud, to no one in particular. She had attempted to grow turnips before, only a year ago. None of them went well. The first time, she planted them in soil that she didn't know wasn't fertile. The second time, she covered them in too much soil and they couldn't grow. The third time, she realized too late that they needed lots of mulch. All the other times also yielded less than ideal results.

But here she was, on an empty farm, all by herself...well, except for her cat Cleo and her dog Hazel. She was going to have to support herself somehow. Sure, her parents were paying for the farm's upkeep as of right now, so she didn't need to worry about mortgage or down payment. But this was a farm. She couldn't just sit around all the time.

" _I want to take over Grandfather's farm!"_ That was what she had said to her parents after her grandfather died. He had left his farm to his family, and Sara wanted to become a farmer. But it wouldn't be an easy job, her parents had told her. Growing crops. Raising livestock. Shipping items. Tilling soil. Chopping weeds. All of it was backbreaking work, and farming wasn't something one did on impulse.

Sara shook her head. "No. I want to do this. I have to start somewhere," She told herself. She couldn't give up now. Not when she was already living on her own for the first time. "I've already put my hand in the soil, and I'm gonna see this through."

Her parents let her live on her grandfather's farm, supportive of her wish, but still advised her to be careful. They did give her one task to complete: grow some turnips successfully. It sounded easy enough, but Sara knew that it was anything but. Things could be different. They could finally grow fully, or Sara would have wasted her money again. If she couldn't do something like grow turnips, how could she possibly be a good farmer?

"I really hope I get it right this time," Once she finished her dinner, Sara wiped some still lingering sweat off her forehead.

The rest of the day went like this: Sara sat on the couch and relaxed for a bit, took the dog out, took a shower, dried her hair with her blow dryer, brushed her teeth, and went to bed. She drifted off to dreamland, seeing lively, hardy crops growing all in her dreams. Turnips, potatoes, corn, watermelons, tomatoes...bountiful crops that she could grow all by herself.

Morning welcomed Sara with golden light, the shimmering newborn dew dotting the blades of grass. With resolve in her heart, she grabbed her hoe and watering can and got ready for work.

"I can do this...I can do this…" She repeated to herself like it was a mantra.

According to some of the townspeople, the soil was still fertile, but it needed to be tilled first. Sara had seen people till their fields with hoes before, both in real life, TV, and the internet. She had an idea of how to do it. Good thing she cleared out all those weeds, happy that she decided to do that first before doing anything else. Then, down into the soil went the hoe. Sara dragged soil across the field, making long trenches. She tried not to make them too deep, or else her turnips wouldn't grow. They also couldn't be under more than half an inch of soil, or the excess soil would prevent them from growing.

"Alright…" Sara then filled her watering can and sprinkled some water on the seedlings. "Please grow. Please...please grow this time…" She prayed aloud.

Down into the soil the water went. According to some books she read about turnips, it took at least two months for turnips to grow fully. It was April as of right now, so they could be fully grown by early June if she took care of them every day. Then, she carried the mulch out and spread it everywhere. Huge, thick piles of black mulch, black as the crows that would flutter about every now and again. Some of the mulch got onto her white gloves. That was fine. This is what gloves were for, she reminded herself.

Now her first turnips were planted into the ground.

She stood up, wiping some dirt off her knees once more. "I really hope this goes better this time…I'll hold off on buying animals for right now."

All that was left to do was take care of them every day. Water them once in the morning, and once at night. Twice a day. 8:00 AM and 8:00 PM. Sara was grateful that she had the sense to plant her turnips in a place where she could easily see them, even in the dark.

A little brownish orange and white dog came bounding towards her, yipping and barking joyfully. Her long, floppy ears bounced with every step she ran. The little dog nuzzled her way through Sara's arm, crawled up to Sara's face, and showered her with kisses.

"Hazel! Goodness, girl!" Sara fell on her rear, giggling. For such a small dog, Hazel was strong. "You just can't get enough of me, can you?" She stroke her furry friend's head with one hand.

"Arf arf!" Hazel barked back in response, her stubby tail wagging back and forth.

"Alright then," Sara stood back up and gently put Hazel down on the ground. "Let me just change my clothes, then I'll take you out for a walk around town. Okay, sweetie?"

Hazel, ever the impatient little dog, simply walked up to her master's leg and licked it. "Hey! That tickles!" Of course, neither minded one bit.

* * *

Flowerbud Village could barely be called a village. It was mostly a couple houses, shops, and other buildings all arranged in a circular pattern in one place. Cobblestone streets, a little park where the kids would play, a flower shop, a saloon, the church with the cross right on the roof for all to see...if there was one thing Sara liked about this little village, it was the fact that it was quiet. No loud noise, no huge crowds of people who would scream and go crazy and overwhelm her, no heavy metal concerts...peace and quiet. Just the way she liked it. Then again, the town was small enough that it had a population of about forty people, her included.

Sara and Hazel happened to pass right by the cherry trees. She couldn't help but stop to marvel at their beauty. Soft, delicate, pinky white blossoms, their petals gently fluttering across the breeze like they were dancing on air. It was no wonder this place was called Flowerbud Village. Sara was glad she moved here. She could appreciate nature's beauty and small gifts every day, instead of being stuck in the city all the time. There wasn't anything wrong with her hometown, but Flowerbud Village happened to give her more of what she really wanted. All the more reason to hope she could grow those blasted turnips. If she could grow at least one successfully, then maybe her dream of becoming a farmer could still come to fruition.

It didn't take long for Sara's mind to be taken elsewhere. "Hello, Sara!"

She turned on her heel, facing the source of the greeting. With a grin, she replied, "Hi, Nina!"

In front of the flower shop stood Nina Bloom, smiling at her friend, looking as beautiful as ever. Her bright, cloudy curls of pink hair tumbled all about, reaching down to her lower back. Green eyes glimmered with joy, and her snow white dress fluttered about as she ran towards her friend.

"It's been a while since I've seen you out and about," Nina said. "I was getting worried."

"Well, don't worry. Work had me a bit swamped," Sara explained, running a hand through her reddish brown hair. "Just finished clearing out all those weeds."

Nina held a hand to her cheek. "Yes. The farm has been dormant since your grandfather passed, and nobody got around to clearing it," She told her. "I tried clearing some of it a few times myself, but weeds are awfully persistent. You pull out one weed, and it seems twenty more show up right afterward."

They found a nearby bench and sat down to talk some more. Hazel, content with sitting after that long walk, simply laid down by Sara's feet. Sara always enjoyed Nina's company. She couldn't help but smile dreamily in her calming presence. Many of the girls Sara knew in her school days weren't exactly the most pleasant. Often times, they were catty, superficial, and always tried to be something they weren't for their own personal gain. Nina wasn't like that at all. Jovial, sweet, friendly, and always offering kind advice or giving someone a flower, Nina always had a warm atmosphere about her that managed to draw people to her. Not even Sara was immune to its effects. Then again, Nina had inherited that from her mother, along with her looks and overall personality.

"You said you were growing turnips as of right now," Nina began. "Do you mind if I ask how that's going?"

Sara let out a rueful chuckle and scratched her hair with one hand. "I just planted them earlier, and based on the instructions, they should finish growing by the end of June," There was no stopping the frown that snuck onto her face. "I tried growing some before, but none of my attempts at doing so went so well. If it's not the soil being fertile enough, it was watering them the wrong way, or something else."

Something she also liked about Nina was that whenever anyone talked to her about their problems, she always listened. No interruptions or dismissals escaped her lips, and she often genuinely wanted to know more, encouraging them to go on. The pink haired girl was always a thoughtful little soul, and Sara definitely appreciated that.

"I won't lie, taking care of plants and crops is difficult," Nina told her kindly, coiling one of her pink curls around her index finger. "I've been in your shoes. I tried growing my first flowers at seven years old, and there were so many rules to growing flowers that I couldn't understand. I would always cry whenever I would mess up, and I messed up quite often."

An image flashed through Sara's mind. A young Nina trying to grow a flower, watering it every day, but after many days the flower never came out of the soil. Nina crying her eyes out and her mother comforting her. Oh yes. Sara could definitely picture that scenario happening. She wondered if it was identical to her own failed experiences at growing turnips.

"I can imagine."

"But don't lose hope," Nina clasped her hands together. "It takes lots of patience and hard work to grow anything. If you ever need help, I'd be more than happy to offer some assistance. My mother grows crops too, so she can help if you want," Another quality that Sara liked about her. She would never hesitate to lend a helping hand, whatever it was.

Perhaps it would do her good to take her up on that offer.

* * *

A week after her conversation with Nina, Sara came outside one day to water the turnips...only to find herself greeted by a row of tiny, green shoots. Tiny, rounded leaves outstretched, like they were welcoming her with open arms, ready to accept the morning sun and its warmth. Sara was so shocked she froze and almost dropped her watering can. Thankfully, she managed to catch it just in time. She couldn't believe her eyes. Her turnips were growing! Still, this was only the first stage. For all she knew, they might not grow completely. Too many failed attempts at growing turnips convinced her to think that they likely wouldn't grow past those shoots. Like before, she watered them the minute she woke up.

"I really hope they survive the next few weeks," Sara said to no one in particular. Hazel was still in the house sleeping, so the early morning was still quiet, save for the birds singing their lovely songs. The air was chilly against Sara's skin, but she didn't mind. She liked how nice and cool it was.

Another thought popped into Sara's mind. She really needed to get herself some animals. She had cut enough hay to put into the silo, and she needed to bring in some income. Maybe buying some chickens would help. She had done enough research on raising chickens to know how to raise them, and chickens didn't cost too much around here. She still had some money on her person, so she could buy one or two and raise them. But again, knowing about something and actually doing it were two different things.

"You know what? Maybe Ellen can help me," Sara told herself. "I'll talk to her and see what she thinks."

With that in mind, Sara and Hazel set out for the village yet again. Much like with Nina, it wasn't hard to find yet another friend Sara wanted to see. She took a turn on the sidewalk, and managed to catch said person sitting on a bench across from the livestock shop. A woman sat on the bench, her very short, boyish, chocolate brown hair being gently carried by a breeze. Her reddish brown eyes stared down at the stone sidewalk beneath her feet. The woman adjusted the yellow bandana tied around her neck, pulling it so it wouldn't chafe at her neck.

"Hi, Ellen!" Sara waved at the woman cheerfully.

"Huh? Oh!" Ellen looked in Sara's direction, at first confused. Then she processed Sara's presence, smiled, and waved right back. "Good morning, Sara! It's rare for you to be around here at this time!"

When Sara sat down next to her, Hazel jumped right into Ellen's lap, sitting right on her legs. The little dog took comfort in snuggling on Ellen's orange skirt. Ellen simply smiled and stroked the dog's back gently with one hand. It was here that Sara noticed something odd. Ellen's face was oddly red and flushed. Her eyes were puffy. Had she been crying? Very subtle tear tracks reflected the sunlight. So she had been crying.

"Good Hazel!" Ellen crooned, scratching the dog's ears. "You're such a good little girl!"

"So...how's it going?" Sara asked, not sure how to start the conversation. For her, this was strange, because Ellen, like Nina, was a warm, friendly, accepting person, and talking with her was always as easy as making a simple sandwich. "I hear business has been slow at the restaurant."

"Yeah. But that's not always a bad thing," Ellen told her. "I get to see Uncle Kyle and help him with the animals when Mother doesn't need my help. Plus…" Eventually, Ellen's smile turned into a frown. Sara could see her friend's eyes turn glassy, like she was about to start crying. Again, this wasn't like Ellen. She was always cheery and optimistic, always greeting people with a smile. "I don't have to deal with Dad being an idiot…"

"Has he been giving you a hard time again?" Sara asked, her voice lowering to a concerned tone.

Ellen gave her a silent nod in response. Hazel, sensing the girl's distress, nuzzled up to her chest, reaching up to her chin and giving it a few licks. Sara sighed. It was no secret that Ellen's father wasn't exactly Father of the Year. Sara herself barely spoke with him, only having seen him once, sitting in the back of the restaurant drinking a second bottle of rum and shouting profanities at anyone who dared to even talk to him. She didn't dare try to approach him after that. On the other hand, he was Ellen's family.

"...You know, he wasn't always like this. We used to get along so well. He would always help me with my homework, teach me how to train dogs, all sorts of stuff, " Ellen's fists began trembling. "I don't know what caused him to start drinking. He was doing so good and going to his AA meetings, too...but then he just stopped…" Her voice quivered. Sara could hear nothing but abject sorrow. "Mom's at her wit's end. Dad always yells at her over stupid things not worth making a fuss about…and me, too."

Tears began to sparkle at the corners of her eyes. Sara could tell from the way Ellen's eyes began to turn glassy and watery. Ellen took in a big sniff, trying desperately to hold the tears back. "I really hate seeing him like that, even more when he starts yelling and throwing stuff at us over things we can't control, like business being slow or even how we dress and talk. It's like we have to walk on eggshells around him 24/7, and I'm sick of it! It's like he's not even my dad anymore! I'm too scared to even talk to him now because I'm afraid he'll hit me with the bottle the minute I say anything to him! I don't have the guts to leave because Mom still needs my help. I love my mom and don't want to abandon her, but...I don't know what to do!"

Finally, the floodgates opened, and Ellen buried her face into her hands, sobbing. Sara simply wrapped an arm around her friend, pulling her close and letting her cry. Hazel nuzzled against Ellen once more, hoping the gesture would alleviate her pain some. It was the only thing the dog knew how to do. Sara wished there was something she could do, like teleport Ellen's dad to some Alcoholics Anonymous center or have Ellen come and live with her. But she knew neither option was possible.

"You don't deserve any of that," Sara told her. She meant that Ellen didn't deserve to be degraded and treated like his servant. "He shouldn't treat you the way he does. You deserve so much better than that."

Eventually, Ellen's sobs slowly died down. "I'm sorry, Sara. I really shouldn't be whining like this."

Whining? "No way! You're not whining at all. You have every right to be upset about your dad's drinking. He really needs to get his act together," Sara couldn't fathom why Ellen would think venting about her dad's actions would be nothing more than petty whining.

Ellen flashed a hopeful grin in Sara's direction. "Thanks for hearing me out."

"No worries. If you want to talk or just get away for a while, you can always come to me. I don't know how I can help or even how much, but…"

"You know I will. By the way, how's the farm?"

"Fine. I actually came by because I wanted to see if you could help me get an animal. Maybe a chicken or something. I need to bring in some kind of income."

With that, the two friends made their way inside the livestock shop.

* * *

Ellen convinced her Uncle Kyle to give Sara four chickens, two roosters and two hens. Sometimes she stopped by the farm to give her tips on how to properly raise a chicken. It was a good thing Sara's new farm came with its own built-in chicken coop. Sara knew nothing about how to make one from scratch, so that was convenient. Ellen showed Sara how to change the water in the water containers, set up an outdoor pen for them to play so they could run around and spread their wings, and how to collect their eggs without freaking them out. Sara made absolutely sure that the pen was far, far away from her turnips. The leaves were getting bigger, and she didn't want those chickens ruining her first crop, not when they were getting bigger than Sara had ever seen them.

"Ow!" Sara yelped as one of her hens, a white one she named Duchess-short for The Royal Duchess of Peckington-pecked at one of her wrists after she picked her up. "Duchess! Don't peck at me! Jeez!" Ignoring her scolding, Duchess simply wriggled out of Sara's hands and waddled over to the feeder. She definitely lived up to her name in that she could be a royal brat. Sara huffed before snatching one of her eggs.

The other two chickens she got-a rooster named Tyler and a black one named Cherami-simply sat on their straw-covered corners, content to just sit and watch the events playing out before them. But Sara wasn't content at all. Once she collected the eggs, she carried them over to the shipping box and gently put them inside, taking care not to drop them or risk breaking them. Eggs were fragile, and she couldn't afford to lose a potential source of income. It had been several weeks since her conversation with Ellen, and her turnips were still growing, donning large leaves...but Sara realized she hadn't done much with the farm since she got it. A heavy weight suddenly crushed down on Sara's chest, soon spreading to her whole body. When she made it to the front door, her legs gave out.

Her eyesight blurred. Her breathing became shallow and choked, like her airway was getting closed off. She wanted to own a farm ever since she was a kid. Now, second thoughts were springing into her mind, mocking her for biting off more than she could chew. Was this all for naught? Did she take on more than she could handle? Was this even going to be worth it? All Sara did was attempt to grow some turnips and get some chickens. That was nothing compared to other farms she had seen. She dreamed of having a great farm. But she was barely starting, and now it seemed impossible. Even walking made Sara feel like she had cinder blocks dropped on her.

A sob came out, then a few more, before Sara completely broke down. Giant tears fell right out of her eyes, dripping onto the grass beneath her. She cried and cried, howling to the ground. "I...I can't...I can't do this anymore…" Sara wailed, allowing herself to cry freely. She tried not to let the stress from work get to her. After all, she chose this job, and she didn't want to give up. Not when she wanted nothing more than to start a farm.

Voices echoed in her mind.

" _Sara. We understand you've always wanted to own a farm. But it's a big responsibility."_

" _Your father's right, dear. It's not easy, and we know you tend to take on more than you can handle. Are you sure you feel you're up to this?"_

" _We don't want to discourage you. We just want you to consider the pressure you'll be under."_

" _I'm sure, Mom. Dad. I've done my research. I want to do this."_

Her parents had forseen this. They tried to dissuade her from making a rash decision. It was only natural that they would worry about their daughter. Sara only wanted to make something of herself. Now...she wasn't so sure anymore.

"Maybe Mom and Dad were right...maybe I can't handle this after all…" Sara cried, her words not much more than choked whimpers, voice hoarse from crying for God only knows how long.

Seeing the distress on her friend's face, Hazel ran right up to Sara and nuzzled against her cheek, giving it a few kisses. Touched by the gesture, Sara sat up and put Hazel in her lap. "Thanks, girl. You're the best. Sorry. Your Mama Sara just had a meltdown, that's all. She needed to have a good cry."

"Arf!" Hazel seemed to understand, as she simply rolled onto her owner's lap. Sara smiled. Goodness, Hazel was such a cute dog. Her chores were all done, so Sara had some time for herself. She simply stroke Hazel's back and allowed herself to slowly calm back down. It wasn't the end of the world if she couldn't do it, she reminded herself. All people needed time to let themselves be sad and overwhelmed. Nobody was perfect, and even the best farmers started out as clueless newbies who could barely grow turnips or take care of a chicken.

Eventually, Sara's labor bore fruit.

June arrived quickly, bringing with it warm summer air, fresh blossoms over the valleys, and pesky mosquitoes. It also brought something else with it.

"Alright!" Sara stepped right out of her house, watering can in hand. "Time to get started!" When she approached her field, she suddenly stopped in her tracks. Something was odd. Sara kneeled down to get a better look at her turnip leaves. They were tall and leafy, bright and in good condition. But something was there that she hadn't seen before.

Underneath the leaves was something hard and slightly purplish pink.

Purplish pink? Sara blinked hard and shook her head. This couldn't be true. It just couldn't, right? She pushed some soil away from the plant. There was more of the purplish pink thing. She touched it with one finger to feel it. It was real and hard.

"No way...no way!" Sara exclaimed. She wrapped her hands around the tall leaves, giving a heave before yanking the plant right out. In her hand was a round, white and purple turnip, the size of her whole hand, the roots dirty and spider-like in her hands

A turnip. A real, ripe turnip. A turnip that, for once in Sara's life, didn't wither away or die before its time because of some amateur mistake she made.

"Oh my gosh! I...I did it!" Sara held the turnip in her hands like it was gold, standing right up, so straight that she could have been a wooden plant. Her amber eyes shined with delight. "I grew my first turnips!"

That wasn't the only turnip that fully materialized either. Her whole crop was rife with good, fresh turnips. Sara could feel her spirits soar high into the sky. For the first time in months, Sara felt light as air, veins flooding with an excited, joyful, crazed energy as she gazed upon her first batch of successfully grown crops. Then she caught sight of both Ellen and Nina walking in her direction.

"Sara! We came to see you!"

"How's your crop?"

"Ellen! Nina! Come look! I grew my first turnips!" Sara pulled three more turnips out and ran to show them the fruits of her labor. To an ordinary person, they were just turnips. Food to be consumed. No turnips could ever solve Sara's problems. But hope for the future was fully restored, springing right back to life, like a summer spangle in the valley. If she managed to grow something as simple as turnips, then maybe she could do so much more.

The dream was only getting started, and Sara didn't mind one bit.


End file.
